


Pretty Little Black Dress

by JMaxx



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunk Sex, F/M, Smut, bottle full of bud, you can find me in the club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 11:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19927420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMaxx/pseuds/JMaxx
Summary: Another Tumblr request. You treat yourself to buying a new dress and take Arthur to a club on a Friday night.





	Pretty Little Black Dress

Payday.

Your favorite word.

After being told you were given a bonus with today’s deposit, you were giddy with excitement, your mind immediately launching into a multitude of plans that you and Arthur could do to celebrate. You’d gone out to dinner last weekend, and already it seemed as if the steakhouse was getting a little stale. No good movies were out either.

And then it hit you: the bar. The one place you hadn’t taken him to yet, not knowing how far he’d go with the drinking. During the weekends it turned into a hot spot for the young adults of the town. Not a bad place to have fun and get cheap drinks. You knew Arthur wouldn’t say no.

You got home after stopping by the mall to purchase something for the both of you, walking in the door, arms laden with shopping bags.

“Arthur!” you called out in a sing-song voice.

His dirty blonde head poked out from the kitchen. “Hey Y/N, welcome home!”

You smiled at him, trotting up to place a kiss on his lips. “You wanna do something tonight?”

He blinked in slight surprise, and then noticed the bags in your arms. “Sure…what did you have in mind?”

“Remember that bar you wandered into a few weeks back?” when he nodded, you continued. “I think it’s about time you and I go to it.”

His face lit up, a grin spreading across his lips. “Great, I could definitely use a drink or two.”

“As long as you don’t go overboard,” you warned. “Remember that night in Valentine with Lenny?”

His grin turned sheepish as he held up his hands in mock surrender. “I ain’t goin’ overboard, I promise.”

“Good,” You said, and pressed one of the bags into his arms. “Now go get washed up and change into this.”

“Uh…” he fumbled with the bag to open it, glancing at the fabric folded neatly within it. “Alright, I guess.”

You smiled at him once again, heading to the bedroom to change yourself.

Fifteen minutes later, after carefully applying makeup, fixing your hair and making sure your new outfit fit just right. It was a little black dress, the fabric clung to your curves and stopped more than halfway up your thighs. The plunging neckline not shy about exposing a decent amount of cleavage. The sides had a sheer mesh pattern that ran up your hips and waist. You completed the look with a pair of stilettos that had been sitting in your closet for at least a year. You had a jean jacket on, adequately covering your upper torso for now.

You found Arthur waiting in the living room, leaning up against the wall with his arms folded, his head tilted down as if deep in thought. As you made your presence, he stood straight.

Accustomed to seeing him in just flannels and jeans or the outfit he’d come in, seeing him in such a refined appearance caused your heart to skip a beat.

He had on a nearly skin tight black t-shirt that hugged his muscles in every right way, the v-neckline dipping to expose a gratuitous amount of chest hair. He also had a jacket of his own, black with the sleeves partly rolled up. His black jeans were somewhat tight as well; showing off the curvature of his cute ass. He customized the look with his own belt and cowboy boots, which still gave it a country touch that didn’t seem too out of place. He’d done his hair as well. It’d grown a couple of inches from the swept fade he’d originally come with, but he was able to style it in a way that looked nice enough, parting it to the side in a neatly combed sweep.

He was admiring the view before him as well, his gaze slowly taking every inch of you from bottom to top. “Damn…” he murmured, a hunger reflecting in his eyes.

You smiled, cocking one hip. And he couldn’t even see the full extent of your outfit. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Morgan.”

“They ‘sposed to be this tight?” he asked, tugging at the fabrics. “Feels…kinda awkward.”

“If you drink enough, that’s not gonna bother you.” you pointed out.

He gave a half shrug, tilting his head in a way that told you he probably agreed. “So, you all ready?”

“Hell yeah,” you grinned. “Let’s go.”

Twenty minutes later, you pulled up to the familiar bar that already had multiple cars parked around it. It took you a few more moments to find a spot, parking just a block away. As the two of you walked, Arthur offered his arm and you took it, smiling at his gentlemanly action.

You were just yards away when you could hear the music blaring from within its walls, the door constantly opening and closing as people walked in and out. You passed by a couple of others standing outside for a smoke and chatter, heading into the bar.

It was certainly packed; the bar having a large crowd surrounding it with others on the dance floor, moving their bodies rhythmically to a fast paced rap song. The lights were dim, casting a golden glow across the walls.

“Huh, this ain’t much different than a saloon,” Arthur observed, having to speak up over the music. “Only the outfits and music’s different.”

You giggled a little, moving toward an empty bar table off to the side. He followed close behind, smoothly ducking between others. You shrugged off your jacket, slowly, revealing the rest of your outfit. It was priceless to see Arthur’s eyes go wide.

“What?” you feigned an innocent tone.

“That…don’t leave much to the imagination,” he responded, rubbing his scruffy chin. “Back in my time, the skirts would be floor length…”

“Ah don’t sound like an old man, Arthur!” you giggled, lightly smacking his shoulder.

He gave you look a confusion. “I didn’t realize that made me sound old, but-”

“Never mind,” you sighed, glancing back toward the bar. “I’m gonna get us drinks. What do you want?”

“Shot o’ whiskey,” he responded automatically. “Better be good.”

You nodded, stalking over slowly, making sure to put on a show for him as you walked. You could feel his eyes on you as you crossed the dance floor to the bar, squeezing through to get the attention of one of the bartenders. You ordered his shot as well as an Amaretto sour for yourself.

Moments later, you made your way back to him, drinks in hand. He only had his focus on you, not that you minded. Sliding him a full shot glass, he took it with a smile and downed it within seconds, practically licking the glass clean as he slammed it back onto the table.

“Damn, that’s good,” he rumbled. “Missed a good whiskey.”

You began to sip your drink, your hips idly swaying to a nostalgic hip-hop song that played over the speakers. You weren’t sure if Arthur could dance, let alone somehow figure out the rhythm to this music to even attempt. It didn’t stop you from moving, though. And it didn’t stop him from staring.

You wandered closer to the dance floor, keenly aware that he was right behind you. It wasn’t long until his hands found your waist, his fingers twitching as if testing the fabric itself. The image of him ripping your little piece to shreds to get to you ignited a fire deep in your core.

Ignoring it, you stepped away and continued to dance, turning to face him. He didn’t move, only watching you with the same look of hunger he gave you before. This was going to be fun; teasing him the way you did. He leaned back on the table, his attention never leaving you. The expression on his face said it all; if he could have you right now, he would.

But you wanted to have fun, get a good buzz going and dance until you were tired. And maybe, just maybe, let Arthur have his way with you when you got home.

You finished your drink, and took a break from dancing to buy another round. As you skirted the outside of the dance floor, you felt the sharp sting of a smack on your backside.

Jumping in surprise, you turned, half expecting to see Arthur, instead it was some random guy, sporting a toothy grin as he nearly shouted at you, “That’s some fine ass you got!”

You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He was definitely drunk, and despite the annoyance that rose within you, you were going to let it slide.

“C-care to join me and my…my buddies?” the drunk guy slurred, reaching for your arm. “We can-”

Arthur was quick, but you were quicker.

Cutting the drunken fool off, you grabbed his hand, twisting it in a way to lock his wrist in an uncomfortable position. He doubled over immediately just as Arthur stormed up, the anger on the cowboy’s face replaced by confusion and surprise to see what you’d done.

“Touch me again, and I’ll shove my foot up your ass.” You growled, keeping your grip firm.

“Ow-ow!” the drunk cried out, failing to escape your hold. “O-okay! I’m s-sorry!”

You released him, watching him stumble on his feet for a moment, grumbling profanities under his breath. Arthur shot a dirty glare at him, and you saw the fear form in those drunken eyes before he scampered off.

“Moron,” Arthur growled, shaking his head before looking at you. “You okay, darlin’?”

“Just fine.” you said evenly, letting the annoyance and slight panic you felt earlier die down.

“I didn’t know you could do that…whatever that was.” He sounded impressed.

You gave him a small smile. “I’m capable of handling myself, Arthur. Don’t think I’m a damsel in distress now.”

“Didn’t say you were,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you. “Hell, I can appreciate a lady that knows how.”

Your smile turned into a smirk, placing your arms on his shoulders as you pressed to him, giving him a tender kiss. He groaned softly, his hold on you tightening as he deepened the kiss slightly.

And just as soon as you started, you backed away, amused by the disappointment in his face. You held up one finger, turning toward the bar again.

An hour passed, you were a few drinks in while Arthur had at least four shots and a bottle of beer. The both of you were past the point of tipsy. Arthur began to dance on his own, though very out of rhythm. You laughed at his attempt, watching as he took a swig of beer, awkwardly stepping along the floor. You joined him, allowing him to grip your hips again. You were aware of some others watching you, though you didn’t care. His movement stopped as you danced against him, feeling his torso pressed against yours.

As the night wore on, both of you had another drink before stopping and sporting a decent buzz. You wandered between dancing by yourself and subtly grinding against Arthur, which you knew he more than loved. He wasn’t shy about his feelings in his inebriated state. He was getting a little more handsy with you, his fingers subtly brushing up your thighs, ghosting across your ass. You loved it as well, although the alcohol making you become a tease, you’d step away before anything else happened. Ooh, it was going to be a fun night.

Eventually the ache in your feet became too much, and you tiredly took a seat, leaning against the table as Arthur stalked over. He wordlessly kissed you, his hands yet again taking their spot on your waist. He’d stopped drinking at least a half hour ago but the taste still remained on his lips. He was definitely more affectionate in this state as well.

“Well, you’re not shy tonight.” you giggled as he pulled back.

“Just lettin’ everyone else know what’s mine.” he said, his eyes dark.

You blushed, the tone and his expression giving you all sorts of inappropriate thoughts. Arthur being possessive was a new side, unexpected but incredibly sexy.

“Wanna get outta here, princess?” he asked, that smile teasing. His hand ran down your thigh slowly, lightly.

“Absolutely.” You responded, hopping down from your chair and grabbing your jacket.

\---

He pinned you against the wall, hardly containing his excitement the moment you entered your home. His lips were hard on yours, holding your face as he trapped you. Your arms were holding him to you, kissing him back with such passion. His rough hand found its way under your dress, taking no time in finding your core. He pulled your panties out of the way, yanking them down before returning to his prize.

His fingers formed rough circles against your clit, earning a loud moan into his mouth. You gripped at his jacket, peeling it smoothly from his shoulders as he tossed it off elsewhere. His other hand pushed aside the fabric, squeezing your now bare breast. His mouth moved from your lips to your jawbone, nibbling along, placing hasty kisses down the crook of your neck.

You sighed his name, running your fingers through his hair. You gasped as a finger entered you, working across your walls easily.

“This wet already?” he murmured against your skin, peering up at you.

“You surprised?” you chuckled with a sly grin.

He only smirked in response, dragging his finger across your delicate spot. Your hips bucked into his grip, another gasp passing through your lips. You reached down, pressing against the hard line in his jeans. He moaned quietly, pressing against your grip as if begging for release. You granted it, unbuckling his belt with ease, allowing his cock to spring free.

You held him in your palm, beginning to pump your hand along his length. His body shuddered from your touch, his deep voice growing louder as he thrust up into your grip. He certainly was impatient, and you were too.

He growled your name, prompting you to want him even more. You hitched your leg up, resting it against his hip. You were exposed to him now. He gripped your thigh, removing his finger to briefly line himself just before shoving himself deep within you.

Your head lifted up, swearing out loud as he wasted no time in pounding into you. He was relentless, the first time he’d gone this hard. And man, did you love it.

His face buried against your shoulder, biting against your tender skin. You hissed, the sting of his teeth only adding to your pleasure. You tilted your head back, crying out his name. Somehow this drove him much faster. Uttering a gasp, your hands clawing at the fabric of his shirt.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” he grunted against you, gripping you tightly. “Fuck!”

Your only answer was a whine, gripping at the fabric hard. He paused to remove the shirt, yanking it off easy to expose his broad, scarred torso. His skin was hot against yours, sweat forming as he continued his pursuit.

Strong, fast, burying deep in your core. You squealed as he hit your sweet spot, feeling a rush of pleasure course through your veins. His teeth abused your flesh, the pain hardly a bother as your body tingled with absolute ecstasy. You left marks of your own on him, his hiss bringing satisfaction to you.

You felt your peak growing quickly, your voice raising an octave as you cascaded over the edge. Your legs trembled as he refused to cease his movement, a small chuckle rumbling in pride. You praised him, your voice wavering as you came down from your high, his high-caliber thrusts rendering you breathless.

His head raised, staring directly at you as he reached down in between to play. While slightly overstimulated, your entire body shuddered. He held you trapped as you almost squirmed from his touch.

“H-hold on, I’m almost there,” he breathlessly groaned. “Can you do that, princess?”

You couldn’t muster a voice to answer, only giving a short whine and a small nod. Your arms were vice-like around him, your claws continuously scoring marks. His lips found their way back to your body, driving himself as if he had limitless stamina. You could feel his breath hitching, his voice cracking in his groans.

Sinful utterances graced your ears as his hips became flush with yours, letting himself spill completely within you. His muscles trembled as he held himself in, completely spent yet still holding you. With one weak thrust, he pulled out slowly, taking short, jagged breaths.

“Shit…” he murmured, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he released you. “I’m spent.”

You giggled a little, cradling his head as your fingers threaded through his hair. It took him a moment to catch his breath, finally standing straight slowly. His gaze on you was sharp, apparent that most of the alcohol had worn off at this point.

“I been…holding that in all night,” he said, a silly grin on his face. “That dress is somethin’ else.”

“Why do you think I wore it?” you answered, smirking at him. “Gotta say, I like it when you’re drunk.”

He hummed in response, rubbing his forehead a little. “Don’t let me get drunk too often, though. Can’t promise what else would happen.”


End file.
